


Bewitched in Moonlight

by lasciviousdaughter



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, F/M, Masturbation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasciviousdaughter/pseuds/lasciviousdaughter
Summary: Copia, exhausted from work but struggling to sleep, is surprised to catch his lover moaning in their sleep.  His lover gives him the okay to do something about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a somnophilia post by ghost-drabbles-bc on tumblr.  
> reader is an afab woman just because that's what I'm better at writing for.  
> title is just a cheesy attempt at a lyric pun about this being somnophilia.  
> god I haven't written things in such a long time but I had to. It's just *kisses fingertips* too good for me not to pass up writing this shit.

_ Click. _

You stir slightly from your half-sleep to Copia unlocking the door.  He gently shuts it behind him and you look over to the alarm clock on the bedside table through heavy-lidded eyes to see that it’s two in the morning.  “So late. You couldn’t have finished your work in the morning?” you mumble, pulling the billowy comforter up to your ears.

He seems surprised to catch you awake.  “I’m sorry if I woke you.” he says to you softly.  He turns on the lamp on his night stand, sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes.  “To be fair, I did finish it  _ in the morning _ .” He turns to give you a goofy grin and you scowl at him in response.  He chuckles at the sight of your face, angrily peeking out from a mass of pillows and blankets, and leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, your frown melting away immediately at the gesture.

You watch him as he makes his way to the bathroom.  He looks so exhausted, with sluggish movements and tense shoulders, and you feel so bad for him.  You aren’t going to say anything to him about it, but all day you had been planning on letting him take his stress out on you, had he only gotten back from work earlier.  You’re too tired to do anything now, and if you’re tired, he is absolutely wiped. Unfortunately, your sleepiness hasn’t done anything to diminish the ache between your thighs.  You sigh softly; you probably should have figured he’d be home late again.

He comes back from the bathroom, and his makeup is removed, but his eyes remain dark, his plague-ridden state having left permanent bruising on his eyes.  You continue to watch him as he undresses and redresses into his sleepwear. You bite your lip and smile. He’s so cute when he looks so comfy. He catches you looking at him.  “What? Go to back to sleep, I’ll be there in a moment.” he teases you, brows furrowed and his hands shooing you. You pull the covers over your head and you are just barely able to hear him tut-tut.

A moment later you feel him slide into bed and you hear the click of his lamp turning off.  You begin to scoot over to cuddle him, but he’s already on you, his chin resting against your shoulder, his hand gently running up and down your side.  You sigh, pulling the blankets back down a bit and turning your head to kiss him. He hugs you tightly as you do so, his warmth enveloping you, and you stifle a moan, clamping your legs closed.  Damn your libido, you need to be asleep!

He parts the kiss and you feel the twinge of longing as his lips leave yours, but you’re soothed once his hand brushes over your hair, and you lean into his touch.  “Goodnight, cara mia.” he whispers into your hair before placing a kiss upon your brow. He turns to lay on his back, but he doesn’t stop his caressing of your side.  Soon enough, the sensation lulls you to sleep.

  
  


Around an hour passes since you fell asleep, and Copia lies awake staring at the ceiling.  He groans to himself, wiping his hand down his face. It never fails to frustrate him how, even on his most exhausting nights, no matter how drained he is, it takes him forever to fall asleep.  Falling asleep at his desk, however, when he really shouldn’t, and lives in fear of Papa Nihil or Imperator walking in on him? Easy. Best naps of his life. And he hates it. He’d flail and kick in bed out of frustration, but he doesn’t want to wake you, not when  _ you’re _ sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to calm himself, deciding to listen to your soft breathing, his hands clasped over his chest, closing his eyes.

And his eyes snap open when he hears you moaning.

He looks at you, eyes wide, checking to see if you’re awake, but nope, you’re definitely still asleep.  He even peeks under the covers to see if you’re touching yourself in your sleep, but your hands are buried under your pillow.  You moan again, a soft, breathy, and long moan, and he shudders. He pulls the covers down a bit and scoots closer to you, peering curiously at your face to watch you as you dream.  It must be  _ some dream _ , because you are huffing out cute little breaths and furrowing your brow.

It’s the tightness growing in his pants that makes him realize he’s been watching you completely slack jawed this entire time.  He sighs and lays back down, palming at himself, with the back of his free hand resting against his brow. As he touches himself, the thought of waking you up and pounding into you crosses his mind, and his cock twitches, growing even harder.  Maybe then he’d finally be able to get some sleep. He turns over to you again, ghosting his hand down your body, but he decides to let you snooze. Your moans seemed to have stopped, your expression is peaceful again, and he doesn’t want to bother you.

He heads towards the bathroom for privacy, shutting the door quietly and leaning against the wall.  He slides down his pants and grabs himself with a sigh. Head tilted back and biting his lip, he jerks himself in long, slow strokes, his thumb grazing over the tip each time.  He imagines you, stirred from your sleep as he lifts your hips off of the bed. You’re staring up at him, a bewildered but lustful look in your eyes as he slides his cock into you.  He moans against his lip at the thought. His strokes become more erratic, thinking about your sounds again, thinking about how your face contorted in pleasure, and he found himself wishing he knew what you were dreaming about.  He moves forward and leans against the sink, thrusting into his hand now. He curses his late nights working, if he had just finished his work sooner or didn’t have such an obtuse workload to begin with he could have been in you tonight!  Soon enough, between the friction and the imagery in his head, his climax gets closer. A few more thrusts and he chokes out a deep, throaty moan, spilling into his hand.

He cleans himself up and washes his hands thoroughly, looking into the mirror.  His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. He shakes his head and sighs, leaving the bathroom.  To his relief, you were still deep in slumber. He slides into bed and hugs you close to him. Fortunately for him, his post-orgasm haze and your warmth was all he needed now to finally fall asleep.

  
  
  
  


You wake with a yawn, feeling well rested.  Wait, maybe too well rested. You look at your clock.

“ _ Shit! _ ”

You jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom, quickly washing your face and shoving your toothbrush in your mouth.  You brush your teeth as your hurriedly get dressed, stopping to spit and rinse before you slip your habit on. You’re pinning your head covering in place as you’re slipping on your shoes, when you hear Copia speak.

“Did you sleep well,  _ cara _ ?”

“Too well.”

“Did you dream of anything?  Maybe of me?” He’s practically purring.

“Uh…  Not sure.  Can’t really recall anything off the top of my head.”

“Oh, too bad.  You were moaning, so-”

“Babe, I could be dreaming of a good meal and I’d be moaning.”

“ _ No _ ,” he says darkly, and he finally catches your full attention.  He’s laying on the bed, already fully dressed in his black cassock, staring at you intensely and twiddling his leather clad thumbs.  “You were really  _ moaning. _ ”

You gulp.  Knowing the mood you were in yesterday, you probably did have some naughty dream last night.  You smile at him sheepishly.

“Glad you slept well, but it did cause some...  _ problems _ for me.” His tone was teasing, and he nodded towards his hand, where his fingers were grazing over his groin.  His eyes snapped to you, instantly boring into your core.

_ Fuck _ .  Why was it so annoyingly hot when he did that?  “Oh. Then fuck me.” You blurt out in what is practically moan.

His breath hitches, his intense and lustful gaze now one of shock, but still just as sexually charged.

You smirk.  “ _ Fuck me _ .  If I’m moaning in my sleep like that, I give you full permission to touch me, fuck me, whatever you want until I’m awake.”  You hadn’t thought much about it, but after you said it, the thought of waking up to him pleasuring you was  _ really _ turning you on.  Judging by his face, it was doing the same for him.

You were probably running really late by now.  Your moment of exchanging lustful glances had to be over.  “Okay, I gotta get going, bye!” you squeak before heading out the door.  You hear Copia rushing to get out of bed and out the door as well. He was probably just as late as you were, staying behind solely to be a theatrical fuck about all of this.

_ You fucking love that dork. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get yourself ready for bed, hoping to Satan that you have a wet dream again. Copia's hoping so as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then y'all fuck. enjoy.  
> you might wanna get ur google translate ready if you actually like knowing the pet names you're reading.

It wasn’t until the sun was setting when you finished your sisterly duties for the day.  You leaned against the door to Copia’s chambers, fidgeting for a moment with the spare key he gave you before the lock finally budged.  To no one’s surprise, Copia wasn’t there. Walking around casually, you admire his living quarters, tidying up what you can as you do so.  It’s not new for you to be in here, you’ve stayed in his bed several times by now, last night included, but you get a sweet and warming sense of comfort being amongst such personal things of his.  The space isn’t small, but it’s not all that spacious either. The room opens up to the bed, which sits slightly across from the bathroom. Parallel to the bed is a small living and dining area, with a tiny kitchenette around the corner from the bathroom.  It’s a cozy living space, simply put. Organized, saved for a few remnants of his work littering some surfaces, or scattered messes as a result of his forgetfulness. In the kitchenette, your fingertips circle the rim of a mug of tea he never finished this morning, the aroma still strong and pleasant.  Across the room, you hear his rats squeaking softly, and you take a few minutes to give them some attention, to which they are grateful for. You sit on the bed for a moment to give your legs some rest from the busy day.

You think back to your conversation this morning with the Cardinal.  He was so confident when teasing you. You know he’s usually the shy, quiet type around the Church, but he’s gotten to be much more comfortable around you, and him acting so bold was alarmingly hot.  You bite your lip at the thought of him being even bolder tonight, if he’s willing. Without skipping a beat, you feel the warm throbbing between your legs.  _ Unholy fuck, you want to wake up to his cock. _

Undressing and neatly draping your clothes on the arm of the chair next to the bathroom door, you decide to take a bath.  You tie your hair up and sink down into the tub as the water is filling it, the heat of the water instantly soothing your aching muscles.  You smile as you see the few shower products you’ve left here have been neatly lined along the edge of the tub. Reaching for your shower gel, you opt to grab his instead.  Twirling the bottle around in your hand for a moment, you sink down further into the water. Your thumb flicks open the cap and you hold the bottle under your nose, breathing in the fragrant scent.  You close your eyes and a tingle runs down your spine as the familiar smell soothes you, bringing back memories of your face being buried against his neck as he holds you close. Smiling, you put the bottle back, grabbing your own body wash this time and lathering up.

After your bath, you search the drawer he keeps your things in for something to wear to bed.  You pull out a slinky black satin chemise, but a sinful idea comes to fruition. Licking your lips, you imagine him getting flustered, preparing to wake you up by giving you pleasure, only to pull back the covers to see you sleeping completely nude.  The old man would probably choke on his own lust at that point. You giggle to yourself, putting the nightgown back and crawling into bed. Off with the lights, you try to fall asleep, but the excitement makes your stomach churn and your mind race. Several scenarios of how you see the night going play in your head before your brain finally calms enough to sleep, and you are out like a light.

 

  
Copia manages to return to his living quarters before midnight, much to his relief.  A smile creeps onto his face when he finds you curled up in his bed, sound asleep. He reclines back in what’s normally his catch-all chair, fiddling with the clothes you draped over it previously.  Leaning against the arm of the chair with his elbow, he watches you, his head resting against his thumb and index finger. He sits like that for a while, his eyes widening at every small breath you make in your sleep.  He takes his biretta and gloves off and sets them in his lap, slumping back into the chair. You clearly weren’t having any interesting dreams yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to occupy his time elsewhere, his dick already half-hard in anticipation, willing him to wait longer.  He bides his time toying with his imagination, in his mind already having you.

When his own lustful thoughts can’t keep him entertained anymore, he stands, growing impatient.  He was hoping to fuck you tonight, but it’s clear to him your plans just aren’t going to happen yet.  He goes to get ready for bed himself, but the most beautiful sound he could hear tonight draws his attention.  

A string of moans leave your mouth, quietly, but they’re there.  He rushes to your bedside, silently, examining your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips pursed, and he can feel the sting of excitement in his chest.  He leans over you, watching the pleasure on your face as he is undoubtedly making you writhe in your dreams. A small smile is plastered on his face, his eyes gazing at your lips, waiting for the next whimper to come from you, giving him the okay he needs to proceed.

“Moan for me, diletti, let me hear how much you need me.” he whispers, barely audible.  His eyes flit up to look at yours for a moment, which are still shut but now with raised eyebrows, then his gaze falls back to your mouth.  A needy whine escapes your lips, and he leans forwards to press his lips to them, almost not enough pressure to be considered a kiss, but enough to feel the softness of yours.  He slowly slides down the covers, jaw going slack when he realizes you were already nude. He admires your body through half lidded eyes, a silent prayer of gratitude falling from his lips for such a lover.

He kneels on the foot of the bed, gently brushing his hands over your legs before prying them open ever so carefully.  He glances up to make sure you weren’t roused from your sleep yet, then focuses attention back between your legs. He leans down, resting his head against your thigh and marveling at how wet you already are.  Running his hands along the bottom of your thighs, he softly kisses, licks, and - emboldened by each moan being elicited - nips his way down your thighs until he reaches the heat between your legs.

He sighs, reaching a hand down to give his dick a few strokes through the fabric of his cassock, already throbbing just from him being so close to your sex.  He lets out a moan of his own, then parts your lips with his tongue. Eyes flicker up to check on you for a moment, his tongue repeating the motion once more when he catches you’re still sleeping, but your moans are becoming louder.  He alternates between swirling his tongue around and sucking on your labia, mostly chasing his own fun by pleasuring you, but then he sucks agonizingly slowly on your clit, your moaning becoming constant, fists grasping at the sheets with white knuckles.  He parts for air, letting go of the now swollen bundle of nerves with a wet pop. Momentarily, he dips back in, pressing the flat of his tongue against you before dipping his tongue into you. You gasp and he pulls back and sits up, satisfied with his work.

He looks up at you and is surprised to see that you’re still asleep, though your mouth is agape and your breathing is much heavier.  He looks down and notices his cock is leaking through the fabric. He reaches towards you, his fingertips caressing your collarbones before traveling down and swirling around the curve of your breast.  He catches a nipple between two fingers, rolling it slightly, watching lustfully as you tilt your head back. His fingers continue their journey down your body, pressing down slightly harder, the man trying his damnedest not to tightly grip you and take you yet.  He gently presses the heel of his palm against your sex and massages it for a moment before he lifts his cassock and frees his cock, the feeling of him finally touching the searing hot flesh causing his head to tilt back and a groan to escape him.

With one hand holding his cassock bunched up at his waist, his other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer, lifting your hips up, which stirs you from your sleep a bit.  Pulled flush against him, he begins to slide the length of his cock against your folds, slick from your own arousal and his tongue. The sensation causes his eyes to screw shut and he whimpers, his grip on your hip tightening.  He sucks in air through gritted teeth and positions himself, prodding at your entrance. He opens his eyes and gazes at you hungrily. “Cara.” he breathes, loud enough so you can hear him. You stir, and he repeats himself, needier this time, gently poking at you again.  “ _ Cara. _ ”

You flutter your eyes open, blinking the sleep from them.  When your eyes are at least halfway open, he plunges himself into you, slowly, savoring it and looking directly into your eyes as he does so.  You let out a high pitched moan at the same time as he cries out a low one. Once he’s buried to the hilt, he reaches up and pinches your chin gently, his jaw slackened, then cups your cheek.  “I hope you slept well.” he sighs, and with that, he picks up his pace, pulling nearly all the way out and thrusting back in hard. You gasp, caught off guard, not given nearly enough time to adjust to his thickness, but as he continues, you welcome his size and his pace.  His thrusts are wild and needy, his grip on you probably leaving a bruise. You begin to match his thrusts, the friction feeling so sweet, and you bury your face against his hand.

You feel his hand leave your cheek and grip onto your hips, and you look back to him to see that he’s lost in the pleasure, staring down at where the two of you become one with his mouth hanging open.  He’s using your hips to roll you against him every time he bottoms out, your clit being teased each time by the curls at the base of his cock. Eventually your gasps and cries snap him out of it, and he leans forward, pinning you under him, and he kisses you.  You taste yourself on him, realizing he must have gone down on you in your sleep, and you smile into the kiss, causing him to growl and bite your bottom lip.

“Tell me - ah!  Tell me about your dream, cara mia.  Every delicious detail.” he breathes into your ear, grinding against you, his cock hitting every sensitive spot within you.  You squeal and whimper out a few expletives before you’re able to muster an answer.

“I was - I was on my stomach.  Pinned under you.” It was all you could manage to say before your voice was drowned out by your own whimpering.

“Yes?”  He thrusts again.  “I can work with that.”  He pats your hip twice and slides out of you, and you moan in protest.  He shifts and with one quick movement flips you onto your stomach and presses himself flat against you.  “Like this?” he grins. You nod and he pushes himself back in, groaning as his cock slips right back into its rhythm.  This new position feeling even better, you bounce back against him as wildly as you can, his front pressed flush against you.  “What else?” he growled, and you shuddered against him.

“You were -  _ oh _ !  You were touching me.  Touching my clit.  _ Fuck _ !”  You cried out when his hand did exactly as you told him.  He alternated between pinching and rubbing, making you writhe under him and whine.  His thrusts were erratic, fast, and hard, and you could tell he was already chasing his orgasm.  You could hear him grunting and sighing near your ear and you rolled your eyes back, feeling your climax coming quickly.

A few more rolls of your clit between his fingers and you came undone, crying out and arching your back to feel him as deep as you could as you rode out your orgasm.  “You came in me, in my dream. Please,  _ please _ , Copia, I want you to cum in me!” you shouted, still riding the waves of pleasure.  Hearing that was enough for him to be pushed over the edge, always one so eager to finish in you, and he made one final thrust, burying himself in you completely, bursts of his seed coating your walls as he nearly screams himself.  “Yes! Yes, cara mia,  _ oh cazzo _ !” he choked out as he came, biting hard against your shoulder, making you whimper and your eyes water.  He lays on top of you, nearly all of his weight bearing down on you and you feel him making small, slow half-thrusts as he finishes his orgasm.

You eventually feel him pull out and flop over onto his side of the bed, and you feel his gaze on you.  You slowly open your eyes to see him staring, adoration in his eyes, though his makeup is smudged. You reach out to touch his cheek, and he kisses your palm.  “Good?” he whispers, and you close your eyes and nod. “Good.” he responds, “Good for me, too. I… cannot move.” You manage a giggle, but you can feel all of your energy drained from you.  You listen as he mumbles on more, but you doze off, and you assume he does the same shortly after. You do remember him saying something about how he hopes he starts moaning in his sleep.


End file.
